A Thrill of Hope
by greentoothbrush
Summary: Dean isnt good with words, but his feelings when Cas comes back to him remind him of something. FESTIVE DESTIEL FIC!


"_A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices  
>For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn<br>Fall on your knees,  
>O hear the angel voices"<em>

_~oOo~_

There was only two times in his, very eventful, life Dean Winchester had ever felt in the presence of god.

As an eighteen year old he had stumbled into a cathedral running from the cops. They had found him in a cemetery and Dean hadn't had chance to go to the Impala.

He stumbled towards the warm yellow lights of the church, hoping he could blend in with whatever mass was going on. He threw a last frantic look behind him as he opened the second set of doors from the lobby into the proper cathedral.

He tripped on the door but managed to shut it softly. Then he evaluated the room. The usual intimidating high ceilings, Dean always felt like they were trying to prove something; make people feel small, he didn't like it. The pews were old and had seen better days; he could see the graffiti from the back of the church. The paintings of an uncomfortably serene Jesus with blood coming from his hands and emaciated ribs full of scratches. Another thing that freaked Dean out.

This was all what he had expected to find. What he didn't expect were the hundred odd people at the top of the church who seemingly hadn't noticed him.

They were completely focused on the thin woman with a severe black haircut in front of them, with her back to him. Dean strained to hear what he was saying.

"Alto's, do not come off that note until I tell you to. Sopranos, come on girls you know you can't sing on a consonant, push up your soft palette and extend your diaphragm and you'll be able to stay on the 'o' for longer. Okay? Right, from the top." She signalled at the elderly woman to her left on the piano.

The almost familiar chords began and Dean walked to roughly the middle of the aisle and sat down, trying to even out his heartbeat and breathing. He was surprised at the amount of people in the church, apart from the hundred odd people in the choir, there was around twenty scattered around the pews.

He was wondering how long he would have to stay there until a girl who he hadn't noticed at the lectern thing and began to sing.

"_O holy night the stars are brightly shining, it is the night of the dear saviours birth. . . "_

She had the most pure voice. He couldn't put a word on it; it brought images of glass to his mind. Then the choir joined in.

The strength of their voices made him widen his eyes. There overlapping harmonies, people with their eyes closed, people wearing completely different clothes, different ages, of every different nationality but they sounded so together. The overwhelming sound was amplified by the high ceilings of the church.

He couldn't put his finger on it. They had such conviction, convinced that someone up there would guard them from danger and know their need. What they were professing was something Dean didn't have much of. But he couldn't help but feel.

It made his heart swell. The only thing he could compare it to was when Sammy got his first A+ on an essay he had written about Dean being his hero. When he watched Sammy play with Bobby's dog and let loose a hearty toddler's chuckle at its wagging tail. Sam's face when Dad hadn't forgotten his birthday and bought him a book by some dude called Vonnegut.

Dean had never felt this way about anything but family. But here these people were. With their overwhelming faith and love. Professing it for all to hear.

Dean couldn't help but feel there was no way this kind of beauty was for nothing. It gave him some kind of faith to hold onto.

~oOo~

That faith, that pure crystallised moment of feeling was buried over by the shit of his life for the next fourteen years.

Dean hadn't thought about the way he had felt in that moment in years.

Until the moment Cas appeared at his side at the boot of the impala and wordlessly taking his trench coat in hand. He looked into those crystal blue eyes, and felt his heart tug in all directions.

He didn't know what to do. He didn't know what to say. But he felt that indescribable swell, a faint 'ah' of realisation gushed forward with his memory.

He fell forward to pull Cas close to his chest in a hug and thought that, yes; he did feel this souls worth.

~oOo~

_**MERRY CHRISTMAS!**_

The song is O Holy Night. Its based on the version my choir did but the version the Mormon Tabernacle Choir did is available on youtube and is beautiful.

Please review.

R.I.P Bobby Singer


End file.
